When I was a little girl, I was drawn to stories like Lassie Come-Home and often dreamed of having a best friend just like Lassie. As I got older, although I still enjoyed a good dog story, I became increasingly more interested in world events and fell in love with stories like Dr. Zhivago for introducing me to new worlds and characters I cared about.

Because tools like the internet—let alone blogs—didn’t exist when I was a kid, it was often hard to find stories featuring a canine protagonist and/or one set in a foreign land unless the title specifically included ‘dog’ or the name of a country in it. So I was constantly coming up with zero finds from the card catalog (yes, the card catalog!) and started bugging the librarian on a weekly basis for book recommendations. And even she, despite her will and background, had a hard time coming up with a new title every week.

It is out of my childhood love of these kinds of stories that my own novel, Lara’s Gift—a Lassie-meets-Dr. Zhivago story—evolved. It is also out of the same childhood desire, as well as my interest as an author of young adult stories that I have created the blog, Read the World where I “house” running author interviews of two distinct types:

(1) On Mondays, I post interviews with authors who who have written a story set outside of the United States in World Reads; and

(2) On Thursdays, I post interviews with authors have written a story about a key canine character in Dog Reads.

I have categorized each Dog Read post by breed of dog and by the author’s first name. Likewise, each World Read post is listed by country and by the author’s first name. This way readers can easily search for and find a book about a Shetland Sheepdog by Bobbie Pyron or a book set in Mexico by Laura Resau for example, by perusing the categories I have set up under each sub blog within Read the World, the home blog.

Readers can sign up to receive both posts through the subscribe link in Read the World or they can sign up to receive individual posts from either Dog Reads or World Reads depending on interest.

Read the World will run as long as there are titles being published and authors writing these kinds of stories. If you have a favorite dog book or story set outside of the United States, I would love to hear from you. It could be a recent title or an older title. Although my focus is on middle grade and young adult novels within these ‘dog’ or ‘world’ subjects, I am also open to featuring picture books that fall within the respective subject matter.

If you are a publisher or author, I want to hear from you, too!

It is my hope that Read the World will become a go-to-resource for teachers, librarians, parents, and kids who share similar reading interests.

Linda Pratt is part of the dynamic duo that forms literary agency Wernick & Pratt, whose clients include such legends as Richard Peck and Mo Willems, and National Book Award Winner Kathryn Erskine.

LT: Linda, we are so happy to have you with us today. Yours is our very first agent interview, so we are especially pleased and grateful that you are willing to take time to answer a few questions. Let’s start at the very beginning. In 2011, you and Marcia Wernick left Sheldon Fogelman and stepped out on your own. How did Wernick & Pratt come into being?

LP: Marcia and I had been colleagues and friends during our tenure at the Sheldon Fogelman Agency, and we were always amused by how well we each seemed to fill the spaces in the other’s skill set. For example, Marcia is an expert in subsidiary rights having negotiated licenses for everything from film and theatrical plays, to audio and translation editions, and all kinds of merchandise, including ringtones! I have a finance/accounting background so the administrative aspects of running a business such as forecasting and financial analytics are more in my wheelhouse. When it came time to think about the next phase in our professional careers, the question of who we each wanted on that journey was a no brainer. We have similar approaches to working with our individual authors and illustrators, and together we are able to pool our specific skill sets to offer the kind of full service representation that we each feel is so important in creating long term careers for our clients.

LT: You represent both authors and illustrators, and those particularly remarkable author/illustrators. Do you find that dealing in both pictures and words lends you a unique perspective as an agent?

LP: Hmmm. That’s an interesting question that I’ve never really consciously broken down in my mind. I’m glad you asked, though, so that I have to! The answer for me would be that pictures and words are really just two different forms of language. I suppose the uniqueness in perspective is the same as one might get being bilingual.

I drew all the time as a kid and well into my teens, and my drawings were always illustration. I created a lot of characters, some people, but many anthropomorphic. I was also an avid reader, and I love language. Turns of phrase just fascinate me. In fact, I’ve been known to get so caught up with my romance with words that I can pick up an accent or way of talking very easily if I’m in a place too long. So the idea of communicating through words and pictures is something that has always been a part of my life. I take it for granted, like riding a bike.

LT: One of the hallmarks of your agency is your commitment to clients’ long-term careers. Can you speak to this?

LP: Authors and illustrators have already spent a lot of time pursuing their craft before we ever come into the picture. As such, Marcia and I feel that it is only fair that in offering representation to someone we are going in with a long-term view of working as well. There are a number of aspects as to what that means to us.

We don’t pursue relationships with the idea of floating a title out to publishers and if we can’t place it, “Well, thank you very much. You’re on your own again.” There are times when the title on which we based our offer of representation doesn’t sell. That’s OK. We’re interested in helping our clients move forward to their next project and the project after that. As an example, one of my author clients originally came to me for representation with a beautifully written historical middle grade novel. It hasn’t sold…..yet. But her skill as a writer was so clear in that piece that I knew she had many other books to write. Ironically, her first sales wound up being picture books. In fact, one was just optioned for TV.

When you work with someone long enough, things change, too. Sometimes it’s the industry. The market for the kinds of books an author or illustrator has been doing may not be there in the same way. Sometimes it’s the client’s creative approach. An author or illustrator may feel pigeonholed by an expectation for certain kinds of work when they really want to be doing something very different. Helping to navigate these shifts is another aspect of working long term.

There is also the goal of protecting a client’s control over their creations for the long term. If a book becomes a major success, suddenly there are many, many opportunities to exploit rights beyond the original book. We work to allow our clients the most freedom to make decisions on how and the degree to which their work is used and/or licensed in other forms.

LT: When reading manuscripts, from the slushpile or otherwise, a): where is your favorite place to read, and b): what are you hoping to find?

LP: a) My favorite place to read is in our guest bedroom. Guest rooms never seem to have the clutter of everyday in them. No paperwork, laundry hamper, discarded shoes and clothes, etc., which gives them a bit of a Bed and Breakfast feel. Reading there feels like a mini-getaway. Plus, our guest room has my childhood bed in it. An antique brass bed that my parents found in the back of a junk shop when I was 3. There are also books everywhere and artwork from far away lands. So a bit of the familiar coupled with the possibility of places unknown in one place. The same makings of a good book!

b) The primary thing that I’m always hoping for in reading a manuscript is to connect with the character. They can be kind, funny, prickly, morally questionable, or anything else. No matter what their personality traits are, there has to be a point of connection with the reader, though. I think this comes out of creating a feeling of empathy.

For example, like so many, I’ve spent my last number of Sunday evenings watching Downton Abbey. Thomas, who is now Under Butler of the house, is a mean spirited, vindictive character. While I’m not claiming to have never been mean in my life (cue a breezy glass house if I did), his brand of vindictiveness is not something with which I identify. While his story evolved over the season to make him a much more tragic figure, which made him much more empathetic, the turning point for me in being able to relate to him came before the major drama in his character arc. It was his reaction to Lady Sybil’s death that gave me a bridge to relate to him. The fact that he, more than anyone else downstairs, took it the hardest made him more humane.

It’s these kinds of layers of complexities and contradictions in characters on the page that I want to discover. The little things that make me see the unexpected or nuanced aspects of a character’s inner being. When you see a writer who understands this so often they also have a strong sense of voice, too, because the two go hand in hand.

LT: Now for the heart of the matter:
Coffee or tea?
LP: Tea. All four of my grandparents are from Scotland. Everyone drank tea in my family. Even the coffee drinkers still have a cup now and again.

Dogs or cats?
Dogs. We have a scruffy little terrier mix. She’s my first little dog. I had always thought of myself as a big dog gal until I fell in love with her photo on Petfinder.com.

Running or zumba?
Running, but unfortunately I’ve had to take a break due to an injury. My husband is hoping it will heal quickly because I can get a little cranky when I haven’t exercised.

LT: Lastly, do you have any advice for writers seeking representation?

LP: Marcia and I always say that the things that we look for in clients are:
a) They are talented.
b) That we connect with them. We have to feel like they like and trust us and vice versa us about them. This doesn’t mean being best friends, but in any long term relationship bumps can arise. If you didn’t like or trust one another all that much at the start, you won’t grow to if you find yourselves in a bumpy patch. Failure would be a certainty under that circumstance.
c) We have to have an idea of how we envision helping the Author reach their goals.
d) There is a sense of flexibility since no person, industry, or career is stagnant, and changes are inevitable, and an ability to change with them is the key to surviving for the long term.

I’d say a writer may be wise to seek these same things in their agent.

The other thing I would say is that a “no” today may not be a “no” forever. If you get any feedback, and you feel that you’ve addressed the concern raised, it would likely be OK to approach that agent again unless they have a stated policy otherwise. It’d probably be best to approach the agent with a new piece if a revision wasn’t specifically requested on the original submission. If you do want to go back with an unsolicited revision, however, you should probably query the agent first before resubmitting.

A culture of laziness exists in one of my middle school classes. I talk about personal goals, achievement, and pride, but laziness wins. Every. Day. It wins because it’s what the class knows. It wins because not one student stands in opposition. All are content with mediocrity.

Thinking back to middle school, I can remember existing within a similar culture of laziness, but that is not my culture today. I belong to the culture of The Driven. We are knowledge-seeking, goal-setting doers.

My shift occurred early in high school when, by luck of the schedule, I found myself set apart from The Lazy and surrounded by The Driven. The influence of those around me changed my very identity. It changed not only my productivity, but the way I thought about myself.

Likewise, as a writer, I find that I am more productive when I immerse myself in the culture of writers. It sounds so obvious, and yet I often forget how important it is. Writing is a lonesome task. Maintaining a sense of culture and community is a challenge. Personal contact with like-minded people is best, but not always attainable due to geography. Most often, I find that I turn to books and blogs. Recently, I have found the blog Write at Your Own Risk and Orson Scott Card’s Characters and Viewpoint especially helpful.

Laziness is the enemy of writers everywhere. Stand in opposition to mediocrity. Stand with a community of like-minded writers. Seek out the culture of writers, even if you can only find it on the page.

In honor of the upcoming Read Across America week, and in honor of some advocacy work I’ve been doing for my local library, I’m reposting something I wrote a few years ago.

Please support your libraries. And if you feel so inclined, please support mine.

In the beginning was the Word. In her beginnings, there was a book. Her mother told her she could read before she started kindergarten, and she started kindergarten at age four. Each week, she would walk with her grandmother and older sister the nine or ten city blocks to their local branch of the Buffalo and Erie County Public Library, a low brick building down a side street.

There, she and her sister would settle in the children’s section, while their grandmother browsed through paperback mysteries and Regency romances. She remembers little of that library—windows, low shelves, Ezra Jack Keats’ A Snowy Day, and the front desk, where a stereotypically severe-looking librarian stamped their books with a heavy rubber stamp—ka-thunk!

By the time she was in fifth grade, her mother was in graduate school studying to become an elementary school librarian. Long Saturday afternoons were spent in Lockwood Library at the university: Mom at the copier with piles of coins, sister claiming the best of the blocky chairs available. The options were limited. Ride the elevator up and down, up and down. Run out to the vending machines, having first snatched a quarter from her mother’s towering pile. Quarter in, press F8, curly-cue swivels around, out pops frosted nut brownie. Or, of course, there were the stacks.

Mostly, she spent time in the stacks. One single row of children’s books, books that sported shiny gold Newbery stickers. Somehow she got her hands on a bookmark that listed all the Newbery award winners, and she decided she would read them. Some of her favorite books were Newberies: A Wrinkle in Time, Tuck Everlasting, Bridge to Terabithia, The Westing Game, Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH. They were quickly joined by Summer of the Swans, My Side of the Mountain, The Witch of Blackbird Pond, The Great Gilly Hopkins, A Ring of Endless Light.

She remembers, though, mostly spending those afternoons with E.L. Konigsburg. Oh, they weren’t on a first-name basis, she and E.L., but nevertheless, she became great friends with Claudia and Jamie, wishing more than anything that she could stay in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, that she could go to an automat (What was an automat, anyway?). She thrilled to the sound of Jennifer, Hecate, Macbeth, William McKinley, and Me, Elizabeth. She gobbled up About the B’nai Bagels, while developing A Proud Taste for Scarlet and Miniver. She even became Father’s Arcane Daughter for a while.

Those Saturday afternoons ceased, but she found other libraries to haunt. She could make a dot-to-dot design on a map of the United States of libraries she has frequented over her lifetime. It would undoubtedly look like an open book. Some of those libraries don’t exist anymore; some of them have expanded. All of them have been important to her. This one is the one she went to in college, studying with her roommates while wearing large hats (to channel the brain-waves, of course). This one she frequented when she was first married, borrowing books with unlikely plots and even more unlikely heroines. That is the one she walked to with her first baby, borrowing books on child development, as well as board books and movies for cheap date nights.

This library, here, was one of her favorites. She brought her toddler there for story time, but also to see the fish in the fish tank, and to work the puzzles on the table, and to borrow picture books to read to him, and CDs to listen to (a compilation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s poems set to music was her favorite). It was there that she returned to her love of children’s literature, often grabbing Anne of Green Gables off the shelf to read while her gingerbread boy played quietly. It was here that she realized she liked children’s literature better than literature for adults.

Now she frequents her current town library, an old schoolhouse built in the 1800s. It is a place where the librarians not only know her name, they know her library card number. She also volunteers in the elementary school library, where she returns dozens and dozens of books back to their places on the shelves. Sometimes, though, she sees a book that catches her eye, and she sits down right in the stacks, caught up in the pleasure of a book, just like she did when she was in fifth grade. Some things never change.

For instance, let’s say there’s a leak coming into your apartment, and then you get a rejection letter, and then you pull your back out and can barely move. Or when your writing seems to be something you’ll never get to, or something that’s not worth doing, something that’s never going to be good enough for anything. Or maybe your just down, and you don’t really know why.

All of these things have happened to me in the past month. When I hit these slumps, I have to do something to get out of them. Be proactive. Fix it myself.

So I take a class. Or sign up for a workshop. I may not always (never) have the money, but I find it somewhere (credit card). It’s an investment that I hope will eventually pay off.

The last time this happened, I signed up for a workshop. I can’t say the criticism I received was astounding or life changing, but it got me writing. It brought new hope to a half-written novel that I thought was dead. It gave me purpose, which was exactly what I needed.

The novel I’ve been submitting (not the one mentioned above) hasn’t been touched for a while. I felt like I couldn’t take it any where else; I was done. But still, no one has been willing to give it a chance. I’m in a slump, but I’m not ready to give up on it. So I signed up for a master class on plot and structure. The biggest piece of criticism I got in the past was that it seemed to “just end.” Hopefully working on plot and structure will tell me what’s missing, get me out of the slump. And the price tag will force me to listen.

I’ve been thinking a lot about agents lately, probably because I’ve received a lot of questions about agents over the past year or so. Since I give a lot of the same advice, I figured this might be a good venue to share some of my thoughts.

1) There is no such thing as a “dream” agent. Let me put it this way—it’s dangerous to put agents on a pedestal. There are a lot of good agents out there, and the “dream” agent you have in mind might not feel the same way about your work. Sure, you should target agents that you think are a good fit, but if you think there’s only ONE PERFECT MAGICAL agent for you, you’ll be in for a rude awakening if things don’t work out.

2) There are a lot of good agents out there, but there are a lot of bad ones, too. Do your research. See who’s making sales. See who’s speaking at conferences. For agents new to the business, see where they interned or worked previously. And if a new agent doesn’t have a background in publishing or didn’t intern anywhere or has only sold to extremely small, university press or e-book publishing houses, RUN IN THE OTHER DIRECTION. A bad agent is always worse than no agent.

3) Be realistic. Just because an agent sold an eight-book, one-trillion dollar deal in a three-day auction for author X doesn’t meant it’ll happen for you. Try to be patient, and cheer when your agent-mates get a deal.

4) Your agent doesn’t have to be your best friend, but you should try to choose an agent that meshes with your personality. Sales are nice, but they aren’t everything. It’s hard to be collaborative if you hate your agent’s guts.

5) Know what you’re looking for. This one is kind of hard, because you sometimes don’t know what you want in an agent until you aren’t getting it. For ideas on what to ask, check out this list at Literary Rambles.

And a few final thoughts, once you get an agent:

6) Take your agent’s advice, but don’t be naive. Read your contracts. Offer opinions. While this is a partnership, it’s your career. It’s your name on the book.

7) Respect your agent’s time. I love talking with my agent, but I try to remember that she has clients other than me. I don’t expect her to respond immediately to my 2000-word email about how much I hate my WIP. But when I need her, she’s always there.

8) Don’t be afraid to make a change if things aren’t working. I know it’s scary—sometimes it’s so hard to find an agent, and the idea of starting the process all over again is daunting. But really, you want a relationship that works. And the “perfect” agent for one author won’t be the perfect agent for another. It doesn’t mean that the agent is bad. It just means it’s not a good fit.

It’s like the nice-looking boy that you dated in college. He seemed dreamy, until you discovered that he had a thing for fava beans and Chianti. I’m sure he’ll eventually find the right person for him…someday. It just won’t be you.

Good luck! Happy hunting!

And be sure to stock up on a lot of chocolate and wine. Believe me, you’ll need it.

Nearly ten years ago, Greg Neri welcomed me, a newbie writer, into his critique group. I’ve watched his career ascend like a missile. That success, his multi-cultural roots, plethora of talents, warm heart and slightly rebellious spirit bring an interesting angle to writing.

Sue: You’ve published four books, one a graphic novel, another in verse, and you’ve been the recipient of literally dozens of awards including Coretta Scott King honors, ALA Notables, YALSA Top Ten and the IRA Lee Bennett Hopkins Promising Poet Award. You’re a magnet for MG and YA readers, particularly boys, and your selection of subject matter has touched on rather gutsy subject matter. How do you do it?

Greg: It all starts with the gut. The gut never lies as far as I’m concerned. We only get in trouble when we listen to our brain trying to justify another way out. So I’ve learned to follow my gut on stories. Your gut is like having your own personal version of The Force. Follow your gut, Luke.

If I have one so-called “talent”, I think it’s the ability to recognize a great story when I see it. And that’s all gut reaction. My books are inspired by real life—unique places, unusual people, compelling events. If I listened to my head, I would have been scared off to pursue any of the subjects I wrote about. A middle grade story about a gangbanger who kills a teenage girl and gets assassinated by two other teenagers for becoming a liability? Yeah, right. But Yummy: the Last Days of a Southside Shorty ended up being my most popular and critically-acclaimed book.

On every project I did and am doing, something unusual happened. I stumbled across a real life story so unknown and compelling that it had to be a book. I mean reality is truly stranger than fiction. Black urban cowboys in Philly? Whoa.

Ex-cons saving young lives through chess? Heavy.

The disorganized crime world of surfing drug mules? Outrageous. But here’s the thing– nobody else was writing about these things.

So it felt like it fell on me to bring these worlds to life because other people needed to hear about these amazing stories too.

Sue: So why use fiction then to delve into these real worlds?

Greg: Fiction is just the way it comes out. I collect so many different and compelling stories within a world that I need to find a vehicle that will allow me to pick and choose from all those different moments to get at a deeper truth. I sometimes call myself a mash-up author. Just like DJs sample music and remix it into something original, I sample life and remix it into a new story.

Sue: Sohow do you decide to take that leap of faith on a new story?

Greg: Fortunately, the story decides for me. It feels like I have no choice—a story finds me, literally stops me in my tracks and won’t let go until I write about it—even if I am committed to something else. That is the only way out. But I can always tell if it’s the right choice: the writing comes easy. When it’s the wrong choice, its clearly an uphill battle.

Sue: What has been your riskiest decision?

Greg: To buy back a novel that had already sold to a major publisher because the sale went against my own gut reaction. It was a mistake and the toughest thing I had to do was to break free from that untenable situation (though it took a long time to realize it). There’s no one to blame, it just happens sometimes that things weren’t meant to be even if you really wanted it to work. But sticking it out longer would have ended my writing–I think I would have quit. But you can only learn from your mistakes—there’s nothing to learn from success (except that it might be nice to have).

Sue: Have you ever chucked a story because your gut told you to move in a different direction?

Greg: Yes, the novel I just finished came in the middle of a two year struggle on another book. The real incidents in the new story I came across were so powerful, my gut said I had to do it, even though technically, I was obliged to do the other. But it all works out in the end. Had I ignored the calling, I would have been twice as frustrated and had nothing to show for it. Now I will get 2 books out of it and renewed faith in my ability to write.

Other times, you chuck the idea you had for the execution of a book. All my stories started off as the wrong thing in the beginning and became something else in the end: free-verse became a novel, a picture book became a graphic novel, a short story became a free-verse novella. So I’ve had to chuck the initial idea I was trying to force on the story in order to accept the story as it wanted to be told. I’ve come to learn that stories are like children: you might want them to become a doctor, but there’s no stopping them if they want to start a punk band instead.

Sue: Has your agent supported your decisions?

Greg: I told my agent that at least he will never get bored with me. Seems every project I do breaks some rule, but he has always backed me. Especially when things get tough. A good agent in like having your own therapist to keep you going and a henchman to do your dirty work when it comes to that.

Sue: Would you give us a peek at your next projects?

Greg: Finished a free-verse picture book biography on the childhood of Johnny Cash, a book that took 10 years to happen. The project lay dormant for many years and then, I revived it on a whim because my gut told me it was too good to let it disappear forever. And with a few bold changes, it came to life again. That’s coming from Candlewick next year. Then I just finished the novel I referred to above which is going out to market as we speak. I am also finishing the writing on a new graphic novel called Grand Theft Horse about my cousin, a 60 year old Texas widow who stole a thoroughbred horse on Christmas Eve to save it from being raced to death. She became an outlaw—a cause célèbre, who learned the law at the library at night in order to beat a high powered LA attorney bent on ruining her. Otherwise, I’m back on that epic book that I put aside, which is now smaller and simpler and not so damn important, but hopefully just a really great story.

You’ve been writing for years, developing ideas, learning the craft. You’ve written a lot, perhaps several–perhaps more than several–novels. You’ve drafted and redrafted. Worked with a writer’s group or a critique partner. You’ve expanded your craft techniques by attending classes and conferences. You may have even completed an MFA.

You may have sold books or have an agent shopping your work.

But you still need time with other experienced writers to share and learn. You could use an intensive workshop geared directly to your level.

Enter The Writing Barn, a writer’s haven in Austin, Texas. Owners Bethany Hegedus and Vivek Bakshi have restored and renovated a fabulous space that’s perfect for writers who need to converse, share and study all aspects of the writing craft. They’ve got three workshops lined up for the year specifically geared toward the advanced writer.

I was lucky to attend the year’s first workshop, Worlds Without End: Deconstructing Classic Children’s Book Characters led by new agent Alexandra Penfold. Alexandra gave two lectures and led the intensive workshop along with Bethany. She recently joined Upstart Crow Literary Agency (http://www.upstartcrowliterary.com/), having moved from a long-term editorial position with Paula Wiseman/Simon & Schuster.

The conversations were high level. The writing of fellow participants showed experience and practice. Time was spent on complicated questions, not the basics. Alexandra’s lectures on characters were charming and funny, and I learned things to apply to my own writing right away.

The space is not much like a barn. It’s clean and classy, filled with light and books and comfortable chairs. There’s always tea and coffee on, and the lunches served were wonderful and healthy. The screened in porch was spacious and looked out on a lovely tree-filled space.

Vivek and Bethany have worked hard to make a place for writers to converse, learn, and engage in literature. The workshops are application-only, and intended to be on par with MFA-level programming. In April, National Book Award Nominee Sara Zarr will lead Little Turnings: Examining Emotional Pacing. In November, Francisco X. Stork will lead Diving Deeply: Thoughts, Gestures and Dialogue.

In addition to offering high level workshops, the Writing Barn is available to rent. A private cabin with room for three is a short walk away and can be rented as a getaway too.